pelvis

Jurassic Park is objectively the greatest film ever made, so I don’t need to explain why I recently watched it for the bajillionth time. Despite having seen this empirically excellent movie countless times, I finally noticed something I’d never seen before.

The film takes place on the fictitious island “Isla Nublar,” a map of which features prominently in the computer control room when s**t starts to go down. Here’s a clearer screenshot of one of Dennis Nedry‘s monitors:

Isla Nublar from the JP control room. Quiet, all of you! They’re approaching the tyrannosaur paddock…. (image credit)

It dawned on me that the inspiration for this island is none other than MLD 7, a juvenile Australopithecus africanus ilium from the Makapansgat site in South Africa:

Figure 1 from Dart, 1958. Left side is MLD 7 and right is MLD 25. Top row is the lateral view (from the side) and bottom row is the medial view (from the inside). These two hip bones are from the left side of the body (see the pelvis figure in this post). Note the prominent anterior inferior iliac spine on MLD 7, a quintessential feature of bipeds.

Isla Nublar is basically MLD 7 viewed at an angle so that appears relatively narrower from side to side:

It’s rather remarkable that some of the most complete pelvic remains we have for australopithecines are two juveniles of similar developmental ages and sizes from the same site. In both, the iliac crest is not fused, and joints of the acetabulum (hip socket) hadn’t fused together yet. The immaturity of these two fossils matches what is seen prior to puberty in humans and chimpanzees. Berge (1998) also noted that MLD 7, serving as an archetype for juvenile Australopithecus, is similar in shape to juvenile humans, whereas adult Australopithecus (represented by Sts 14 and AL 288) are much flatter and wider side to side. Berge took this pattern of ontogenetic variation to match an ape-like pattern of ilium shape growth. This suggests a role of heterochrony in the evolution of human pelvic shape, or as Berge (1998: 451) put it, “Parallel change in pelvic shape between human ontogeny and hominid phylogeny.” In layman’s terms, ‘similar changes in both pelvic growth and pelvis evolution.’

Figure 3 from Ward et al. 2015. A little distal to the hip, yes, but the pun still works. Views are, going clockwise starting at the top the top left, from above, from below, from the back, from the side, and from the front.

There’s also a partial ilium associated with the femur – that makes a pretty complete hip!

Figure 5 from Ward et al. shows the fossil. Jump for joy that it’s complete enough for us to tell it comes from the left side!

Despite how fragmentary the femur and ilium are, the researchers were able to estimate the diameter of the femur head and hip socket reliably. The hip joints are smaller than all Early Pleistocene Homo except for the Gona pelvis. Comparing ER 5881 the large contemporaneous KNM-ER 3228 hip bone, the authors found these two specimens to be more different in size than is usually seen between sexes of many primate species. The size difference best matches male-female differences in highly dimorphic species like gorillas.

Ward et al. find that the specimen generally looks like early Homo but that the inferred shape of the pelvic inlet is a little different from all other Early and Middle Pleistocene human fossils. The authors take this discrepancy to suggest that there was more than one “morphotype” (‘kind of shape’), and therefore possibly species, of Homo around 1.9 million years ago. While I wouldn’t just yet go so far as to say this anatomy is due to species differences, I do agree that KNM ER 5881 helps our understanding and appreciation of anatomical variation in our early ancestors. Like all great fossil discoveries, the more we find, the more we learn that we don’t know. Here’s to more Homo hips in the near future!

Last week, I discussed the implications of the Gona hominin pelvis for body size and body size variation in Homo erectus. One of the bajillion things I have been working on since this post is elaborating on this analysis to write up, so stay tuned for more developments!

Now, when we compared the gross size of the hip joint between fossil Homo and living apes (based on the femur head in most specimens but the acetabulum in Gona and a few other fossils), the range of variation in Homo-including-Gona was generally elevated above variation seen in all living great apes. This is impressive, since orangutans and gorillas show a great range of variation due sexual dimorphism (normal differences between females and males). However, I noted that the specimens I used were unsexed, and so the resampling strategy used to quantify variation within a species – randomly selecting two specimens and taking the ratio of the larger to smaller – probably underestimated sexual dimorphism.

Shortly after I posted this, Dr. Herman Pontzertwitterated me to point out he has made lots of skeletal data freely available on his website (a tremendous resource). The ape and human data I used for last week’s post did not have sexes (my colleague has since sent me that information), but Pontzer’s data are sexed (no, not “sext“). So, I modified and reran the original resampling analysis using the Pontzer data, and it nicely illustrates the difference between using a max/min vs. male/female ratio to compare variation:

Hip joint size variation in living African apes (left and right) compared with fossil humans (genus Homo older than 1 mya, center). Each plot is scaled to show the same y-axis range. On the left are ratios of max/min from resampled pairs from each species (sex not taken into account). On the right are ratios of male/female from resampled pairs from each species. The red stars on this plot are the medians for max/min ratios (the thick black bars in the left plot). The center plot shows ratios of Homo/Gona.

The left plot shows resampled ratios of max/min in humans, chimpanzees and gorillas, while the right shows ratios of male/female in these species. If no assumption is made about a specimen’s sex (left plot), it is possible to resample a pair of the same sex, and so it is likelier to sample two individuals similar in size. Note that the ratio of max/min can never be less than 1. However, if sex is taken into account (right plot), we see two key differences. First, because of size overlap between males and females in humans and chimpanzees, ratios can fall below 1. Adult gorilla males are much larger than females, and so the ratio is never as low as 1 (minimum=1.08). Second, in more dimorphic species, the male/female ratio is elevated above the max/min ratio (red stars in the right plot). In chimpanzees, the median male/female ratio is actually just barely lower than the median max/min ratio. If you want numbers: the median max/min ratios for humans, chimpanzees and gorillas are 1.09, 1.06 and 1.16, respectively. The corresponding median male/female ratios are 1.15, 1.06 and 1.25.

Regarding the fossils, if we assume that Gona is female and all other ≥1 mya Homo hips are male, the range of hip size variation can be found within the gorilla range, and less often in the human range.

But the story doesn’t end here. One thing I’ve considered for the full analysis (and as Pontzer also pointed out on Twitter) is that the relationship between hip joint size and body weight is not the same between humans and apes. As bipeds, we humans place all our upper body weight on our hips; apes aren’t bipedal and so relatively less of their weight is transmitted through this joint. As a result, human hip joint size increases faster with increasing body mass than it does in apes.

So for next installment in this fossil saga, I’ll consider body mass variation estimated from hip joint size. Based on known hip-body size relationships in humans vs. apes, we can predict that male/female variation in humans and fossil hominins will be relatively higher than the ratios presented here – will this put fossil Homo-includng-Gona outside the gorilla range of variation? Stay tuned to find out!

A few years ago, Scott Simpson and colleagues published some of the most complete fossil human hips (right). The fossils are from the Busidima geological formation in the Gona region of Ethiopia, dated to between 0.9-1.4 million years ago. (Back when I wasn’t the only author of this blog, my friend and colleague Caroline VanSickle wrote about it here)

Researchers attributed the pelvis to Homo erectus on the basis of its late geological age and a number of derived (Homo-like) features. In addition, the pelvis’s very small size indicated it probably belonged to a female. One implication of this fossil was that male and female H. erectus differed drastically in body size.

Christopher Ruff (2010) took issue with how small this specimen was, noting that its overall size is more similar to the small-bodied Australopithecus species. Using the size of the hip joint as a proxy for body mass, Ruff argued Gona’s small size would imply a profound amount of sexual dimorphism in H. erectus: much higher than if Gona is excluded from this species, and higher than in modern humans or other fossil humans. Ruff thus proposed an alternative hypothesis to marked sexual dimorphism, that the Gona pelvis may have belonged to an australopithecine.

Fig. 3 From Ruff’s (2010) reply. Australopiths (and Orrorin) are squares and Homo are circles. Gona’s estimated femur head diameter is represented by the star and bar.

Now, Simpson & team replied to Ruff’s comments, providing a laundry list of reasons why this pelvis is H. erectus and not Australopithecus. They cite many anatomical features of the pelvis shared with Gona and Homo fossils, but not australopithecines. They also note that there are many other bones reflective of body size, that seem to suggest a substantial amount of size variation in Homo fossils, even those from a single site such as Dmanisi (Lordkipanadze et al., 2007).

Interestingly, neither of these parties compared the implied size variation with that of living apes. So I’ll do it! Now, I do not have any acetabulum data, but a friend lent me some femur head measurements for living great apes a few years ago. Gona is a pelvis and not a femur, but there are more fossil femora than hips. Because there’s a very high correlation between femur head and acetabulum size, Ruff estimated Gona’s femur head diameter to be 32.6 mm (95% confidence interval: 30.1-35.2; Simpson et al. initially estimated 35.1 mm based on a different dataset and method). To quantify size variation, we can compare ratios of larger femur heads divided by smaller ones. Now, this ratio quantifies inter-individual variation, but it will underestimate sexual dimorphism since I’m likely sampling some same-sex pairs that aren’t so different in size. But this is just a quick and dirty look. So, here’s a box plot of these ratios for Homo fossils, larger specimens divided by Gona’s estimated femur head size in different time periods:

Clearly, Gona is much smaller than most other fossil Homo hips, since ratios are never smaller than 1.14. Average body size increases over time in the Homo lineage, reflected in increasing ratios from left to right on the plot. Early Pleistocene Homo fossils are fairly small, including Dmanisi, hence the lower ratios than later time periods. Middle Pleistocene Homo (MP), represented by the most fossils, shows a large range of variation, but even the smallest is still 1.17 times larger than the largest estimate of Gona’s femur head size. To put this into context, here are those green ratios (assuming a larger size for Gona) compared with large/small ratios from resampled pairs of living apes and humans:

The fossil ratios of larger/smaller HD from above, compared with resampled ratios from unsexed living apes and humans. Boxes include the 50% quartiles, and the thick lines within are sample medians. **(05/03/14: This plot has been modified from the original version post, which only included the fossil ratios based on the smaller Gona estimate)

What we see for the extant apes and humans makes sense: humans and chimpanzees show smaller differences on average, whereas average differences between gorillas and orangutans are larger. This accords with patterns of sexual dimorphism in these species. **What this larger box plot shows is that if we accept Ruff’s smaller average estimate of Gona’s femur head size (white boxes), it is relatively rare to sample two living specimens so different in size as seen between Gona and other fossils. If we use Simpson et al.’s larger Gona size estimate, variation is still elevated above most living ape ratios. Only when Gona is compared with the generally-smaller, earlier Pleistocene fossils, does the estimated range of variation show decent overlap with living species. Even then, the overlap is still above the median values.

These results based on living species agree with Ruff’s concern, that including Gona in Homo erectus results in an unusually large range of variation in this species. Such a large size range isn’t necessarily impossible, but it would be surprising to see more variation than is common in gorillas and orangutans, where sexual size dimorphism is tremendous. Ruff suggested that the australopith-sized Gona pelvis may in fact be an australopith. This was initially deemed unlikely, in part because the fossil is well-dated to relatively late, 0.9-1.4 million years ago. However, Dominguez-Rodgrigo and colleauges (2013) recently reported a 1.34 mya Australopithecus boisei skeleton from Olduvai Gorge, so it is possible that australopiths persisted longer than we’ve got fossil evidence for, and Gona is one of the latest holdouts.

So many possible explanations. More clarity may come with further study of the fossils at hand, but chances are we won’t be able to eliminate any of these possibilities until we get more fossils. (also, the post title wasn’t a jab at the fossils or researchers, but rather a reference to the movie Office Space)

The vernal awakening has brought rain to Ann Arbor, and right on here on main campus I spotted the rain-splotched silhouette of an articulated human pelvis (left).

Check out those short and flaring iliac blades, and the shortness of the ischium. These features are associated with repositioning key muscles for walking and running on two feet, and are very unlike what is seen in the four-legged, suspensory climbing apes.

But just how ‘human’ are these features? The crushed pelvis of Oreopithecus bambolii, a ~8 million year old fossil ape from Italy, has somewhat human-like short ilia (left). This pelvis also has weak anterior inferior iliac spines (Rook et al. 1999), which anchor the hip/trunk flexor muscle rectus femoris, and are allegedly a developmental novelty seen only in hominids (Lovejoy et al. 2009). These traits have led some to claim that Oreopithecus was a hominid, or at least bipedal. Without getting into that debate, I’ll just say that seeing these ‘bipedal’ features in this late Miocene ape’s pelvis weakens the case that their presence in Ardipithecus ramidus indicates a unique connection between Ardi and later, true hominids like australopiths.

UPDATE: Check the comments for notes on the Ardi and Oreo fossils from someone who’s actually studied them (I myself have only seen pictures and read about them).

Rook, L. (1999). Oreopithecus was a bipedal ape after all: Evidence from the iliac cancellous architecture Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 96 (15), 8795-8799 DOI: 10.1073/pnas.96.15.8795

I just made what what may be the most amazing discovery of the century at a local booze emporium. Dogfish Head brewing company makes a beer whose label is adorned with Jay Matternes’s reconstruction of an upright Ardipithecus ramidus. Note that the left foot grasps the earth with it’s ape-like big toe.

In a whimsical use of artistic license, whoever adopted this image added a curlicue pig’s tail. In animals with a tail, a number of caudal vertebrae continue off the set of fused vertebrae called the sacrum. Humans and other apes don’t have true tails but a coccyx, a small clump of tiny, fused vertebral segments. Our tail vestige may not help us hang onto trees like in Ateline monkeys, or sting our enemies like a scorpion, but the coccyx is still pretty important. In people this evolutionary memory of a tail anchors some muscles of the pelvic floor (including sphincter ani externus and levator ani), which are critical for the to control of our bowels.

Below is a close up of the Ardipithecus ramidus pelvis fossils (from White et al. 2009, fig. 3). No coccyx was discovered for Ardi, and little is said about the sacrum, other than that it’s merely broken piece of the end of the bone (Lovejoy et al. 2009). Nevertheless, I’m sure this end of sacrum would lead one to reject this artist’s hypothesis that Ardipithecus had a tail.

Had I been in charge of labeling at Dogfish Head, the beer would’ve been called “Party-pithecus” instead of “namaste,” and this label would’ve been slapped on some exotic IPA or porter instead of a wheat beer. Still pretty awesome, though.

A week and a half ago, Kibii and colleagues (2011) published reconstructions and re-analyses of two hips belonging to the 1.98 million-year old Australopithecus sediba. As with many fossil discoveries, these additions to the fossil record raise more questions than they answer. Unless the question was, “did A. sediba have a pelvis?” It did. Here’s a good summary from the paper itself:

Thus, Au. sediba is australopith-like in having a long superior pubic ramus and an anteriorly positioned and indistinctly developed iliac pillar…[and] Homo-like in having vertically oriented and sigmoid shaped iliac blades, more robust ilia, and a narrow tuberoacetabular sulcus…and the pubic body is upwardly rotated as in Homo. (p. 1410, emphases mine)

So far as I can tell, the main way the hips are ‘advanced’ toward a more human-like condition is that the iliac blades are more upright and sweep forward more than in earlier known hominid hips. Here’s the figure 2 from the paper (more sweet pics of the fossils are available here). NB that in both A. sediba hips much of the upper portions of the iliac blades are missing (reconstructed in white; this region is missing in lots of fossils), so it’s possible they were more flaring like the australopith in the center photo.

The authors’ bottom-line, take-home point is that the A. sediba pelvis has features traditionally associated with large-brained Homo – but belonged to a small-brained species (based solely on the ~430 cc MH1 endocast). They argue that this means that many of these unique pelvic features did not evolve in the context of birthing large-brained babies, as has often been thought. They state that these features are thus “most parsimoniously attributed to altered biomechanical demands on the pelvis in locomotion,” and suggest that this hypothetical locomotion was mostly bipedalism but with a good degree of climbing. Maybe, maybe not. This interpretation is consistent with the analysis of the A. sediba foot/ankle (Zipfel et al. 2011).

The weird mix of ancient (australopith-like) and newer (Homo-like) pelvic features in A. sediba really raises the question of how australopithecines moved around. More intriguing is that the A. sediba pelvis has differentHomo-like features than the ~1 million year old Busidima pelvis (Simpson et al. 2008), which has been attributed to Homo erectus (largely in aspects of the iliac blades). This raises the question of whether A. sediba is really pertinent to the origins of the genus Homo, and whether the Busidima pelvis belongs to Homo erectus or a late-surviving robust australopithecus (e.g. boisei, Ruff 2010).

Also interesting is that the subpubic angle (in the pic above, the upside-down “V” created by the pubic bones just above the red labels) is pretty low in MH2. This is curious because modern human males and females differ in how large this angle is – females tend to have a large angle which contributes to an enlarged birth canal, whereas males have a low angle like MH2. But MH2 is considered female based on skeletal and dental size. This raises the additional questions of whether human-like sexual dimorphism had not evolved in hominids prior to 1.9 million years ago, and whether the sex of MH2 was accurately described.

Finally, though the authors did a great job comparing this pelvis with those from other hominids, I think a major, more comprehensive comparative review of hominid pelves is in order. How does the older A. afarensis hip from Woranso (Haile-Selassie et al. 2010) inform australopithecine pelvic evolution? What about the possibly-contemporary-maybe-later hip from the nearby site of Drimolen (Gommery et al. 2002)? Given the subadult status of the MH1 individual, it would be interesting to compare with the WT 15000 Homo erectus fossils, or A. africanus subadults from Makapansgat, to examine the evolution of pelvic growth.

Lots of interesting questions arise from these fascinating new fossils. “The more you know,” right?